TurnTable
by Demonic Angel Clone
Summary: The tables have been turned: Rachel gives him the slushy and Puck doesn't throw it back in her face. Damn those hormonal urges…For Baby Mama Drama Challenge by Kiss.Me.Pink.
1. Prelude

_**T**__urn__**T**__able_

* * *

**Baby Mama Drama**

_Challenge_

* * *

_**P**relude_

* * *

In her mind, she could push the situation under a slew of musical remembrances and pretend that it didn't happen, but she wasn't the querulous, procrastinating type of girl to _do_ such a thing -and if she was honest with herself, she never expected to do this type of thing with _him_ but what's done is done- and she certainly wouldn't turn into one. She faced every scenario head on whether it was gliding on High C or performing a passé.

She remembered asking Mercedes if she could borrow that Alicia Keys CD she was playing a few minutes before Glee ended. Perhaps a bit more gospel and contemporary for her tastes, but she couldn't help herself. This only held significance because of one particular song that held so much depth and truth to it. She lightly tapped the keys to the piano in the choir room and began to sing under her breath.

"Sometimes I feel  
Like I don't belong anywhere  
And it's gonna take so long  
For me to get somewhere…"

"Sometimes I feel  
So heavy hearted…  
But I can't explain  
'Cause I'm so guarded."

"But that's a lonely road to travel  
And a heavy load to bare  
And it's a long, long way to heaven  
But I gotta get there…"

She could deal with this, even if she was blinking her glassy brown eyes over a toilet bowl, heaving chest and all. She could wipe off the vomit from her lips, dust off her precisely starched plaid skirt, and proceed out of the girl's bathroom seemingly unscathed but for how long. How long until the impending public humiliation? How long did she have as an upcoming starlet? She was already a statistic -a pregnant teen. How long before she had to face _him_? And what would she say? "Hello, I'm sorry to take time away from your day, but I just wanted to let you know that I am pregnant. And that it's yours. Please, you can proceed slushing me now."

How sad, how juvenile, and...

_"How pathetic, Berry. I mean seriously."_

She's back in that place where he's shaking his head at her, loosely holding a beer in his hands. She's out of her element and she wonders why she's even here in the first place.

Oh, right. He had made some asinine bet that he could still be considered a _stud_ and have Rachel _'I'm a star'_ Berry as a date in supposedly _normal_ high school surroundings. Or this is what she thinks. She really doesn't care the reason because she has ulterior motives for even being there.

This all began with an E! Entertainment biography marathon. She sat dutifully in front of her television, mentally taking notes. Each starlet, every possible actress, dancer, and singer all seemed to fall under the influence. A scandal would usually ensue afterward, and their careers: obliterated. Now, of course, she never _planned_ on drinking, but she did have the idea that if she engaged in the act this early in her life, maybe she wouldn't do so later in life when she surely would be successful. Of course the idea _truly_ cemented in her mind when Kurt readily reminded her that the occasionally sparkling wine on Sabbath was hardly counted as alcohol. No, she needed something strong, at least to imbibe her and get her over this mental hurdle. Since her fathers were only occasional drinkers, alcohol wasn't a staple in the Berry household so she would have to find somewhere that she could obtain it. And what was better than an unsupervised high school party?

_"I'd like to consider it inspired, Noah."_ She said with a falsely cheerful smile. Inwardly, she was cringing at the place she put herself in and tried to stay as alert as possible with liquor running through her bloodstream. Just a couple of hours more, she decided. She would leave.

It was just a shame she didn't have the same thought in mind two hours later.

She was under him, in his arms as he murmured sweet nothings in her ear. That's all they were, she persuaded herself. Sweet nothings. She recalled the earlier conversation as she thoughtlessly divulged everything. Her goals, her feelings for Finn, her nonchalance about the constant bullying. Even how her day begun.

_"A banana smoothie every morning for potassium and energy at 6 a.m. Then, from 6:10 to 6:45, five laps on my elliptical. By 8:30, I'm already in my first period, ready to take notes. By 1:30, I'm sitting in the cafeteria eating lunch. Afterward I go to my last period and on Thursdays and Tuesdays, Glee after school. Mondays and Wednesdays, I'm in the ballet studio at the Academy and Fridays are my acting lessons at the college."_

When Puck raises his eyebrow, she babbles on, _"Oh, I have to drive about an hour and a half to go there, since there _are_ no colleges in Lima."_ As if she had to explain that. She's surprised at how easily the words come out, no slurs. She's aware of what she is saying and whom she is saying it to, and she can't help but smugly think that this is a slice of superstardom pie. How those impressionable starlets got themselves in such incidents was beyond her. She's giggling and Puck is rolling his eyes and that's when things become a little foggy.

_"Is that all?"_ Puck inquired dryly, carrying her up to her room.

_"Yes, maybe, possibly..."_ She's murmuring under her breathy laugh and reddening face. Holding her arms around his neck, she tightens her hold and buries her head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his earthy musk. She giggles some more and she can't help but note that this must be an effect of the alcohol. Somehow she manages to stop talking, especially since she knows that he simply can't be paying attention, and loses herself in his calming, manly musk as they ascend the stairs. The only sounds in the dark that could be heard were the shuffling of his feet in the dark house and their breathing. Her fathers had gone on their annual cruise and though Rachel had gone every year, she told them to go alone in hopes of this chance. The night had seemingly gone well, but as he opened her bedroom door, it was clear to her that the night wasn't over yet.

_"Are..."_ She breathed, and then paused to try again when it sounded too slurred, too weak, too unlike her. She cleared her dry throat, _"Are you leaving?"_

He laid her down on her bedspread and grunted in affirmation.

_"You don't...have to. You can stay. I mean, you've drunken a fair amount as I have and you shouldn't have to risk driving again in this weather."_ It began raining after the party and to more support her words, lightening lit the room for one moment, and the thunderous boom followed suit_. "I-I know we're not friends, though I would like to be, but you seem to be a good listener, even if you weren't even listening and I appreciate that. I mean, I know that you don't like me when I speak so much, but it just seems like I can't stop talking around you because I think that you actually DO listen to me, and-"_

Those were the last words she could say, before his lips crushed hers, silencing whatever she was about to say next. For some reason, she had the feeling she was treading dangerous territory, so, she could be grateful for him stopping her. On the other hand, once he started with her, nibbling her bottom lip, pressing his body on top of hers and fisting his hands in her silky brown hair, she couldn't stop.

She wished to God she stopped. But she didn't, and he didn't, thus her current predicament.

So as she wiped her vomit coated lips on the back of her hand, stood on wobbly legs, and washed her hands with sterilized foam, she doesn't really have to wonder how she got herself in the once almost impossible situation. She knows. And she's accepted it. The details may be sketchy, but one thing is not. It's been two months since her last period, and she's finding it harder to explain why she's so tired lately. Even Mr. Schuster has taken notice and told her to rest until next week's practice. And even though this didn't bode well with her, she didn't have a choice in the decision because whatever entity blossoming in her uterus wanted her to run -_quickly_- to the bathroom and throw up until her throat grew raw from the bile.

She grabs the door handle and opens the door with a flourish, still a bit woozy from her spell in the bathroom. What she doesn't expect is to see the formidable figure of Noah Puckerman, leaning casually against the row of lockers. She could feel her knees lock up upon sight and she swears she would've fallen over if not for her grip on the bathroom door. Her knuckles grow white as her grip tightens on the cold metal handle and her breath is caught at the back of her throat. Suddenly, she's afraid and trapped like a rat in a cage. This isn't Rachel Berry and in her mind, she reprimands herself. Stands up stock straight and squares her shoulders.

Looking into his dark olive eyes, there was only one logical thing to do:

Abortion.

* * *

First Glee fic. Gee, this turned out angstier than I thought. Dx Will be a multi-chapter since it wouldn't be right leaving it as a oneshot. Featured the song _Prelude to a Kiss_ by Alicia Keys.

DAC


	2. First Verse

_**T**__urn__**T**__able_

* * *

_**F**irst **V**erse_

* * *

Damn girl, with her overtly dramatic way of doing things and that annoyingly indignant way she held herself.

In his mind, there were many different, and interesting, ways of handling this.

One, he could say some scathing comment until that infuriated glint returned to her almond doe eyes. Two, he could catch her off guard and wrap his arms around her, which would be interesting considering how she's been avoiding him like he had some sort of plague –the term _bubonic_ escapes him since he hasn't bother with going to History class for a while- and was infested of fleas. How would Berry react to that? Would she crumble under him like she did when she left the bathroom, like she did that night? Or would she go crazy apeshit and start flailing all over the place? Now, _that_ would be amusing.

But first things first.

"Have you gone mental, Berry?"

"Uhm…" Now there's an epic battle raging in her mind, trying to decide if what he asked was a trick question. The only reason he knows this is because of those damned flustered expressions on her face. Surely she wasn't expecting an "Are you okay?" filled with deep concern, or even a "Damn girl, you look like _crap_."

No…scratch that. The latter was true, but not even Puck was _that_ mean. That's why he avoided the matter completely.

So instead, he touched upon the one that made him really frustrated: Today's Glee Club meeting.

"_Mr. Schuster, I have something to say before we proceed with today's meeting." _Berry began, sitting on the edge of her seat with her mini plaid skirt. How the Hell does she wear that in 40-degree weather? _'The stockings keep me warm, Noah.' _Yeah, whatever. Puck rolled his eyes in seemingly indifference; Rachel _always _had something to say. Still, no one voiced this and the girl continued, _"Since my return back to Glee Club with the aforementioned conditions, I've decided that I would like to redraw myself as lead for every song so that you could award someone else with the opportunity. Perhaps Quinn could take over for me."_

That's when this started. That's when all Hell broke loose. Silently. First, Mr. S was speechless for an entire two minutes which went by mostly unnoticed because gasps and murmurs of the impending end of the world in three years –Thanks Artie- spread around the choir room like condoms at a Chastity Club meeting. Then, everyone slowly inched _away _from Rachel because hey, if the chick was crazy enough to renege on her own condition, what else was next? "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry, and my goal in live is to be a homemaker in Lima, Ohio with seven kids. And no job."

Oh God, the mental images…

Then Kurt and his gay ass cautiously descended in front of Rachel and laid a hand on her forehead. _"Hon, you feel warm, are you doing all right?"_

Rachel chuckled nervously, trying to shake the edge the room seemed to be taking, _"I'm fine, Kurt. Why is everyone making such a fuss about this? It's not as if I'm incapable of-"_

We all cut her off right there. _"You are,"_ The entire room said in unison, even the band kids who never seemed to speak. A first. Puck never knew that the chick with the glasses had an English accent. Huh.

She looked around, slightly put off. _"Thank you for your concern everyone, but really, I'm-"_

A pause. She snapped her mouth shut and covered her mouth. Also, another first: Rachel Berry shutting herself up. Except, this didn't seem as innocent as it was meant to be. A watery glint suddenly flashed over her brown eyes and then she jumped out of her chair in a panic, and ran haphazardly to the exit. Puck was somewhat alarmed by this, but suppressed an inward growl when he realized he shouldn't have been. That was _so_ Rachel. And this wasn't the first odd behavior the girl had done. Well, _more_ odd in her case.

The avoiding was expected, of course. Even though she had a vast vocabulary and was generally put together majority of the time –for the exception of cherry slushy dripping down her face- she had the maturity of a four year old. When it came to sex, that is, and not the act of it, the aftermath. At first, he thought she was dealing with it really well and that they could maybe just forget that the whole ordeal even happened, but then she would just stare at him at odd intervals during Glee, even when he would turn back, she'd never take her eyes off of him. So, she was one of _those_…

Kurt gave him a empty look after Puck stated his case. It wasn't as if he could go to Finn about this because Finn was just as, if not more, clueless than he was. Plus Kurt was just about as good as talking to a girl -more intune with the feminine psyche- or whatever the Hell else he babbled about.

"_Surely you're not serious."_

"_No Beyoncé, I just like talking to you for my health,"_ Puck retorted dryly. _"I need you to do some recon; find out what's up with Berry."_

He didn't feel the need to explain himself, as he never needed to, so why start now? Besides, he didn't really want to talk about what had been truly aching to him; how he had, at one point after their drunken hook-up, touched her shoulder while she was facing her locker and only flinched away when she saw that it was him. When the Hell did he suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf? _'Ever since you've made me Little Red Riding Hood, when you consistently doused me in cherry slushy,' _Rachel's voice is reaffirming in his head. Funny. What about those days when he doused her in grape? And it wasn't as if he were still doing it after the fact.

The point was he had become a little less of an ass after that night, for _her_ sake, and she _still_ treated him like he was about to unleash some sort of onslaught on her at any moment. It was…annoying.

The smaller boy crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow, _"And if I can't?"_

"_You know you can, so I don't even know why you would say that."_ Puck stated with a cross of his arms. The two stared each other down, Puck with more fervor as he glared, until Kurt huffed and shut his locker.

"_No need to get all hot and bothered, Puckerman,"_ Kurt said nonchalantly and Puck shifted his balance to his other foot, caught of guard with his comment. _"I'll find out what's going on with Ms. Berry, I've been curious myself. Although, I'm even more curious as to why you even care."_

Just to be an ass, he replied with a straight face: _"Because I'm a vindictive son-of-a-bitch that wants to exploits Berry's weaknesses."_

At this, Kurt's face lit up, _"I didn't know you cared so much."_

Gay bastard.

"_Whatever, just do it. I'd get Jacob Israel to since he's obsessed with her, but I think I'd wring his neck first before he got to tell me."_ Puck says with a smile, and it's mostly true. Ever since they were kids at the JCC, Jacob's scared the ever-loving shit out of him. Maybe because of his freakish resemblance to those Good Guy dolls from the Child's Play horror movies, or because he drank his apple juice back in first grade, and squirted it out through his nose. For whatever reason, that kid was the only one known for being crazier than Berry. And she was already insane.

And now, standing in front of her and becoming impatient with her and the way she barely had anything to say to him, he felt the need to reiterate: "Have you gone off the deep end Berry? You're telling Mr. Schue to give the lead to other people that aren't you."

After a moment, she nods tightly, losing all bravado. "Yes, Noah. I'm adept enough to know when my performance is affecting the group, hindering it, actually. It's not fair to everyone else that I'm not giving it my all-"

"And why aren't you?" He cuts across, a bit quieter than intended. "What, did we become unimportant in your world _again_ Berry?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Rachel exclaims, and steps closer, treading slowly, "How dare you say such a thing?"

"Then why don't you cut the crap?" He asks, not evening looking at her, but past her. "Why don't you just say that you don't want lead anymore because Finn bowed out and I took over for him? Because all be damned if _I_ touch you again."

His face snapped back from the delivered slap. Even from the side he could see Rachel straighten herself. "I just want to make one thing clear to you Noah. My actions have nothing to do with you."

"Not even just now?" He stretches his jaw and resists from rubbing his cheek. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"No. That was because I felt like it," She raises her chin and stands at her full height, as if that was supposed to intimidate him. It would've been cute if it was some other girl, but this was Berry who was some sort of hybrid between an actual girl and a parent's wet dream. So he snorted in response.

"Yeah, felt like putting your hands all over me again," He muttered before he could even think of his words.

Rachel's face grew ashen. "D-Definitely not," She shook her head for good measure. "I'd rather not…well."

Well, indeed.

"Yeah because why the Hell would you want a Lima loser like me?" He gritted out and the growling edge to his voice made her flinch.

"Precisely," She responded curtly, and then walked away before another word could be said.

Puck left the school after that, thoroughly pissed and he didn't even bother going back into the choir room. In the student parking lot, Mike, Matt and Artie were gathered by his car, singing the last chorus to a new rock group. Before moving to Lima, Mike lived in Colorado, so it was no surprise why he out of the trio sang it with more fervor.

"I think I should know…how…to make love to something innocent without leaving my fingerprints out…  
Now, L-o-v-e's just another word I never learned to pronounce!  
How…do I say I'm sorry cause the word is just never gonna come out.  
Now, L-o-v-e's just another word I never learned to pronounce."

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Wow, I think I just fell in love with the Glee section. 57 alerts, 15 favs, in less than one day? You guys are AWESOME. Even my mother noticed the mass response to my inbox. xD I wanted to put this chapter up quickly, but I'll respond to all reviews soon, and please, keep 'em coming. They inspire me like you wouldn't believe. Featured the song Starstrukk by 30!H3.

DAC


	3. Second Verse

_**TurnTable**_

* * *

_**Second Verse**_

* * *

She would just like to point out that Noah Puckerman is the most insufferable, egotistical, _jerk_ she's ever had the misfortune and misjudgment to have ever communicated with.

End of story.

Wouldn't that have been lovely? To just declare the story _over_ and have that as the end of that? No Noah, no inebriated misadventure, and certainly no-

Her hands glide over her midsection and that train of thought is postponed. If the boy wasn't so infuriating, she might've deemed it important to just tell him. She nearly did. It was like he was reading her thoughts and just _knew_ her dark, sordid secret. Not that he was an innocent bystander in this, but he wasn't someone she could easily trust with this. A baby was an extremely large responsibility that neither she nor Noah was equipped to handle. She had goals. Aspirations. Why should she have to put her entire life on hold, her future career in jeopardy because of one indiscrepancy? Maybe if she had one good reason...

But she didn't. None that came directly to mind at the moment. Storming down the hallway back to the choir room, all she could think about was his bitter face, the condescending glint in his darkened jade eyes, and the way he grimaced as she walked away.

Rachel walked back into the choir room after taking a deep breath, only to see that nearly everyone was gone. Thank goodness for small favors.

"Mr. Schue," Rachel called out to get his attention. The Glee moderator smiled as she approached.

"Heh, looks like you're feeling a bit better. You looked a bit under the weather a while ago," He said as the concerned crease returned to his eyes.

Rachel smiled, shaking her head, "Never better Mr. Schuster. I just wanted to let you know that I completely meant what I said earlier."

Mr. Schuster began to nod, a small smile set on his face, "I know you did. And I'm pleasantly surprised, Rachel. Any particular reason?"

Another shake of the head, this time with a smile so wide and tight that her cheeks began to sting, "Nope, I just...I just feel that someone else should get the opportunity since my performance hasn't been up to par lately."

"I wanted to ask you about that, is everything okay, Rachel? Are you still being…?" He trailed off, almost unsure if he should say it.

"Harassed?" She finished without plight. "No Mr. Schue, I just am finding myself growing tired lately, that's all." The brightly placed smile on her face began to wane, but she shook it off quickly.

Mr. Schuster only somewhat noticed this change, but just chalked it up to Rachel's normal eccentricity. "Well, although I'm glad you're showing maturity and taking the group's needs before your own, I hope that you can rest up. Even if you're not lead, we still need your vocals, Rachel."

The Jewish girl dutifully nodded, "I completely understand. I'll take care of it."

Why did saying it sound so…final? This was the plan: To become someone in life, and then, maybe, have a child or two. Not now. Not when she was in her prime, a bright, vibrant starlet. Not when she was so _close_ to just leaving this town.

As she walked to her Prius in a somewhat dazed trance, she wanted to give herself every reason. Every justifiable statement to support this: He didn't want her. She didn't want him. They didn't want each other and invariably didn't want a child. She had dreams to accomplish. He had…whatever it was that he had. She didn't want to stay in Lima. He most likely did. She was a frightened sixteen year old girl who knew what she wanted out of life, and it certainly didn't include this. He was the boy that, for the last two years, had absolutely no problem making her life a living Hell. There _was _no reason for this baby to exist.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, she soon found herself at home in the comfort of her own bedroom, despite the fact that it was the same location that she found herself completely inhibited. She did everything she could to untainted the area; changed her bedspread, rearranged her furniture, even wallpapering the wall with light floral accents. She could admit that she was a bit obsessive about the whole thing, but it was necessary evil. How could she go home to the same room when she could practically see him everywhere she turned? In any case, she felt that the room needed redecorating anyways.

She sat in front of her computer and researched the closest abortion clinic. So far, the only option was the Center for Choice clinic in Toledo. 60 miles away, but it was designed and operated by women, some of which that may know and empathize with her. Since her fathers trusted her, she could access the $400 needed from her personal savings. That money was for New York; three months rent, school, food. She really would rather not to dip in it, but since this was for her future, the true purpose of the account, then it really wasn't a tough decision.

She dialed the number on the website on her cell phone and cleared her throat primly as the other line rang. When the receptionist picked up, Rachel said, "Hi, may I schedule an appointment?"

She'd also like to point out that her insertion in Glee had, once again, nothing to do with Puck.

Before she decided to voice her decision to give up the lead, new mash-up ideas were presented. The song Mr. Schuster requested that the group do was "Are You Gonna Be My Girl?" by Jet.

Everyone gathered around after Mr. Shuster's rendition, laughing breathlessly, and high-fived all of those who participated in the impromptu number. Puck remained seated throughout with an amused smile playing on his lips.

"_Okay ya'll, playtime's over. Any ideas?"_ Mercedes inquired to the room at large.

Puck snickered under his breath and Rachel craned her head to find the offending noise. Her eyes narrowed, _'What a jerk…'_

"_Oh my God, Rachel actually has some flavor,"_ Kurt cooed in awe as he touched Mercedes' shoulder. The girl nodded and made a sound in the back of her throat in agreement.

Rachel looked around the room, bewildered, until she realized that all eyes were on her. _"What's going on?"_ She asked with a weak smile, as if she were a bystander.

"_Girl, I didn't know you listened to Hip Hop,"_ Mercedes found her way to her side, appealing to her with a light-hearted smirk.

"_I…"_ Rachel began awkwardly, squirming slightly. Had she said something?

"_You know, that's hot,"_ Matt grinned with Mike, getting hyped up. _"We could even start jerking! Man, I've been waiting to integrate new dances for the longest!"_

What were they talking about? Jerk…_ing_?

And then, to her horror, she realized she had spoken aloud. Oops.

She precariously glanced to the side and noticed the skeptical stare Puck aimed her way. She turned away quickly enough to give herself whiplash. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and flinched until she saw it was Finn's. Taking a breath, she relaxed into the touch. _"Are you okay, Rachel? You look a little under the weather,"_ Finn asked with a concerned gaze.

_"I'm fine. Completely and utterly fine,"_ She said with a reassuring nod. She smiled widely, _"Thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it."_

And since then, Puck had made it his personal business to observe Rachel throughout practice, which not only unnerved her, but kept her on edge the entire time. Seeing him outside the bathroom was also an unwanted occurrence and she fretted over the chance that he may have heard her in the girl's bathroom.

Knowing him, he probably laughed in some sort of sick satisfaction, so she couldn't care less.

Logging onto her MySpace account, she noticed her e-mail indicator in the corner and clicked it curiously. She was barely sent any private messages.

Jacob Israel.

A shudder rocked through her core, and she grudgingly clicked on the e-mail. Her almond eyes grew wide and she had to cover her mouth to suppress her horror.

"_Teen Diva Extraordinaire Rachel Berry,"_ The afroed boy said from behind and she jumped away in shock. "_Or should I say Lil' Mama?"_

She paused to compose herself and then she turned to him, eyes blazing. "_What are you talking about?"_

"_I'm talking about your one-woman act plus one,"_ Jacob stated, pushing his glasses to the crook of his nose. "I _wonder-will your water break while you sing due to the pressure of your diaphragm?"_

"_Enough!"_ Rachel screeched in a whispered tone. _"I. Am. Not. Pregnant. Do you understand me?"_

"_Really? Then why haven't you had your monthly as of yet? Currently, you seem to get it between the span of the eighth and the eleventh,"_ Jacob said sagely, reaching for his tape recorder.

Rachel inched away, growing pale_. "How on Earth do you know that?"_

"_I've collected samples."_ He retorted, as if to say of course blood samples were taken. _"I'd like an interview."_

"_And I'd like you to leave me alone, but I don't suppose that's going to happen, now is it?" _Rachel replied scathingly and Jacob shook his head.

"_Not likely, Rachel Berry. I have my ways,"_ He said with an increasingly Grinch-like smile, and she ran in the other direction.

Now she sat in front of her computer screen, staring blatantly at a large picture of her, looking about eight months pregnant with all of the boys in Glee Club surrounding her, even though Finn was most proximately shown. Below that was an large blinking caption:

**Who's the Daddy?**

* * *

Okay, I have to go pretty soon, but before I do I'll mention that Kiss. Me .Pink has made this a contest. As soon as she picks out her top three, people can vote for the overall favorite, so please, show some support and vote. I'd be pretty cool to place. ;)

Another thing. After this chapter, the story will get increasingly darker. For innocent viewers, TURN BACK NOW. Thanks to the awesome reviewers, alerts, favers, and readers. :D

DAC


	4. Take It To The Bridge…

_**T**__urn__**T**__able_

* * *

_Take It To The Bridge…_

* * *

He'd just like to say on his behalf that Rachel Berry was one psychotic ass chick, one that deserved to be put in a loony bin somewhere and given Grammy shaped chocolates to be kept happy.

Or at least, not to be held responsible with a child. Not that he could say much of anything since he went along with her crazy ass plan, but she provoked him to the point of no return. Still, wasn't an excuse. If ol' Papa Puckerman saw; no, not that jackass of a father, but if his grandfather had known, he would've been in the same place he was.

Six feet deep.

It all started that next day at school, except something just didn't feel right. He looked to his right. Was Kurt still as gay as a rainbow parade? Check. He looked to his left. Was Quinn still Head Cheerio and now Glee's top babe? Check. Everything was, you know. Everything. Except for the missing icy cold feeling of a Big Quench early in the morning. He clenched his hand; as if one would suddenly materialize and he found himself missing those days. Driving to the 7-11, chewing some dip, slush flooding down Berry's face to the valley of her breasts…

Hey, hey. Cut that shit out.

Okay, let's get one thing straight. Just because he didn't like Berry and Berry didn't like him, didn't mean he didn't have the right to think about her occasionally in a non I-just-want-to-make-you-cry way. The chick ended up haunting in his sleep way more after that one time his mom guilt-tripped him. Since then, his perception of her was slightly skewed. She went from being some holier-than-thou ethereal figure to a hot and sexy seductress who came apart at his touch.

And yes, in all of those times, Berry didn't talk because that was the only place where he was safe from hearing her voice. His dreams.

Anyways, if she didn't drive him up the wall, if she didn't make if feel like the ever-loving crap of the world, and if she didn't flinch every time she saw him or talk to him like he was about to go off on her at any moment, he might've treated her like a real person.

Might.

Like that time at Mike's party, when his parents weren't home and the gleeks and jocks actually hung out somewhere outside school, like normal teenagers. Yeah, right. _Normal_. And they say miracles don't happen. Except for a few things though, like Kurt dancing to some Beyoncé song and Artie poppin' wheelies in the living room, everyone pretty much blended in. Even Berry, which was just scary.

As Hell.

Actually, she looked pretty good.

Damn good.

Would he tell her that?

Hell no. Lord knows that girl didn't need an ego boost.

Anyways, this really started with Psychology class last Tuesday. Yeah, he barely went, but when he did the teacher would always be talking about sex. A subject he absolutely excelled in. So of course, he gave the teacher an ounce more of attention than usually, when he started talking about the Id.

The Id, which was a theory made by some batshit crazy perv who touched up little girls and was hyped up on cocaine, was a section of your brain that controlled primal urges. Or some shit like that. The teacher had to condense it and say 'This is the area that tells you to jump on that hot girl that just passed you to class'. Surprisingly, he caught onto the concept very well. Hot chick. I want hot chick. Grab hot chick and take her somewhere to do hot people things.

That's where the booze came in because whatever the Hell his Id was thinking, it circulated all the way to the head of his dick, and basically, this had made most of his decisions the rest of that night. Berry was hot, which, by the way, he was thankful for. He may've agreed to take her, but it didn't mean he wanted Betty –freaking- Crocker on his arm all night. He got drunk, she took a couple of hits and she was gone. He should've given her Malibu, but…oh well. Live and learn.

Then she talked. Way. Too. Fucking. Much. Like word vomit on crack. Except, it was pretty damn funny for a bit, and mostly sad when she starting talking about her day, as if he cared. Not that he listened. Nah, that was just something he heard.

Then he drove her back home with a buzz, rep still intact. And then she just…stopped talking. Which was nice, but some heightened part of his mind was freaked the fuck out because this shit wasn't a dream, was it? And then when she _started_ talking again, he kept thinking about how he just jinxed himself and she was getting too intimate with her words, so he shut her up with his mouth. And opened her up with his hands.

He stayed over, something she told him to do, and when he woke up, she wasn't there. Not that he's a fucking pussy or anything, like he would get pissed that she wasn't there. He was a stud though. It was _his_ job to not be there the morning after! When he went downstairs, she was already dressed, donning two large yellow rubber gloves, scrubbing furiously at the kitchen floor.

What.

The.

Fuck.

"_Berry, seriously? It's too early to be doing that."_

She looked up quickly, brushing her hair out of her face. _"Oh. Hello, Noah."_

And there goes that awkward silence. You know, the one where he raises his eyebrow, wondering if he just banged a clinically insane chick, and she just smiles nervously and brushes off invisible dust from her shirt.

Yeah. That awkward silence.

He scratchs his shaved scalp and asks one solitary question. _"Where's the cereal?"_

Why, she asks.

_"I'm freaking hungry, that's why," _Puck mumbles as he enters the kitchen, ignoring her protests about stepping on the floor when she was cleaning it. Her fault for cleaning it so early anyways. Oh, by the way. He didn't feel like putting on his underwear after last night. Sue him. So maybe that's why Berry freaked out when the cold of the fridge made his lower areas more aware than usual. _"Chill out, Berry. It's not like you didn't get a good view last night."_

_"How on Earth could you wear jeans without undergarments?" _She asks childishly and the horrified look on her face almost makes him spew laughter.

_"You see, they made these things called jeans and you put one foot in each hole." _He replies, pulling the milk out of their anally arranged fridge, which is just about bare because Berry was right, they _are _addicted to takeout. Containers of Chinese, Mexican, and Thai had to be shuffled through before actually finding real foodstuff. The milk was set to expire that day, so he counted himself pretty lucky. Then, he opens the cabinets in search of cereal, _"It's called going commando, Berry. You should try it sometime."_

Her face scrunches up in disapproval and a self-satisfied smirk works it's way to Puck's face, until he opens the cabinet the cereal's kept in. _"This is what you got?"_ He pulls out the box and shakes it unabashed, _"Raisin Bran?"_

Then she talks more. Great. Something about how it's Daddy's because it's health conscience or some gay shit like that. And no, he doesn't feel bad when he says gay because he _is_ gay. "Dad" and "Daddy", or whoever. He wouldn't be getting that title for a long ass time, maybe not ever.

Cereal was nixed because Raisin Bran was NOT the breakfast of badasses. So, looking into his finances -digging into his pocket after buying brass knuckles last week- he decided to screw the kitchen and go out for breakfast. Berry just happened to follow him, was all. And he didn't lock the doors fast enough and threatening to call the cops wouldn't do it because he _did_ screw her when she was drunk off her ass that night and didn't want to risk sexual harassment charges. Knowing her, she'd say he took advantage, which he did, but bullshit. She wanted it just as bad.

After that, things went pretty much back to normal, almost. Berry was still the resident crazy and he still tolerated it without too much resistance. Slushy attacks went down significantly and he ignored those entire we-know-what's-up-and-we-want-details looks from all of the gleeks, including Finn.

_"So, ah, why'd u stop slushing?"_ The taller boy asked, reaching into his locker in the locker room, _"Not that I mind, or anything."_

Yeah, Puck was just that much of a dumbass. As long as they were on the subject and they weren't being subtle with each other, he said, _"Dunno. Why'd you quit the male lead crap?"_

Finn sighed and ran his hand through his hair, a frown tugging at his lips, _"Quinn's been giving me a lot of crap about singing so much with Rachel, you know?"_

No. Puck didn't know. Puck didn't _care_. Puck still managed to have a pair of balls in his pants. But he wasn't so much of an ass to say that to his best friend's face, so he just gave a non-committal huff and he guessed Finn took that as sympathy. _"So, instead of _your_ ass singing to Berry, you passed the buck onto me? Way to have my back."_

Yeah, the guilt card. That shit worked better than two condoms on.

Finn was gracious enough to look apologetic and Puck just wanted this verbalized, so as long as Finn didn't mention the Berry incident and Puck didn't make any whipped like a African slave comments, it was pretty much over at that point and that was that.

Which brings us to today. Because obviously, some shit was up and Puck what to know who, what, where, when, and how the fuck to get in on it. Except, apparently, he was already a part of it, and he wanted to know how the Hell he could be at two places at once. And this is where the shit hit the floor.

A tape recorder was pushed under his nose and he swore to God if that freckled face freaked of nature got any closer, he'd shove his ass so far down the garbage shoot, his balls would be served with a side of Cheerios.

That's as close as he would get to banging a cheerleader.

"So Puck, self proclaimed stud of William McKinley, there have been rumors circulating that a certain someone in the Glee club is involved in a scandal. Your thoughts?" Jacob pushed his glasses back to the crook of his nose and wheezed. Puck twitched.

Then his lips followed the same action. "Does it rhyme with Daechel Kerry?"

Israel looked up at him in a self-assuming awe: "You've been reading my blog."

"How about 'Hell no,'" Puck retorted dryly, not even bothering to cushion the blow. "_I _have a life. _You _don't. If I wanted to, I could screw Berry any day of the week. You couldn't even get a glimpse of her underwear. Get. A. Life." He shoved the tape recorder so hard out of his grasp that it fell onto the marble tile. Then he took a deliberate step forward, crushing the hard plastic underneath his boot. Jacob jumped back, but then lowered himself to the ground slowly, bated breath and eyes widened in horror under those Urkle shades.

"I had-" A panicked wheeze escaped. "Six hours of commentary!"

"And while you're at it," Puck gritted out underneath a glare. "Stay out of Berry's. It's _my _job to make her life a living Hell, not yours." He bucked to instill the right amount of fear and Jacob crawled backward on the floor before scurrying down the crowding hallway. There, that was better. Everything was back to order, and in celebration, he began to head over to the second floor bathroom.

He could use some dip right about now.

* * *

First and foremost, Rachel Berry was not a nymphomaniac, contrary to the opinion of many.

She just believed that girls and guys had the right to express themselves in any juncture as long as they were protected. Except she could barely remember how she expressed herself and unfortunately, contraceptives were the last things on her mind the one time she expressed herself in that particular way.

So when she received that mock-up of a future blog issue by Jacob yesterday afternoon, she promptly closed the window, assumed the fetal position, and screamed into her pillow. Repeatedly. Then, after another episode in the school bathroom guest starring Ms. Pillsbury, which constituted Rachel to walk out of her office with a bulimia pamphlet and a care basket of Purell, the girl was, quite literally, looking forward to her appointment this weekend. Just one more day, and she would be back to her world of categorized sheet solos and the spotlight.

Then the locker in front of her slammed and she shirked back from the shock. Quinn Fabray stood imposingly with Santana and Brittany at her heels with all of her pomp and circumstance. Rachel released a shuddered breath. "Hello, Qui-"

"Cut the crap, Man Hands. I'm on to you."

With that solitary statement, Rachel felt her skin ice over. She tugged on the hem of her cardigan over her slacks, opened her locker with a blatant slowness, and turned in the other direction so that her hair curtained her face, "Is that so? Please, do tell."

Quinn stepped past personal boundaries with a narrowed gaze, intently observing the girl before answering. "You bowed out of the female lead because Finn bowed out first, so now, Schue's going to use me and I have to duet with Lima Loser!"

Prior to that decision, Rachel hadn't even considered that fact that she would be closer to Finn, but she did realize that she would be away from Puck. Also, thoughts of a developing fetus and the fact that it could leave her birth canal with a fauxhawk kept her up at night and circles had been developing under her eyes. No amount of concealer could distinguish her sleeplessness, as well as the fact that she preferred a fresh complexion versus one covered in foundation. Besides, Glee club deserved better and at this moment better meant the non-pregnant and fresh-faced Quinn Fabray.

"I am terribly sorry that you received the female lead," Rachel said dryly with an ounce of annoyance. Swallowing her pride, she continued, "Maybe I should've recommended Tina, but what's done is done and unfortunately you will have to sing with Puck, who is actually a talented performer based on his Acafellas review. As I've stated before, I happen to be a very classy young woman despite your derogatory comments and I promise to keep my distance." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away before she could break down.

Not that she ever would've, not in front of her and not if there was not a motive accompanying it. Although, she did have to admit, something I her had had broken after that night. When she woke up that morning after, she cried. She went downstairs, sat listlessly on the couch, and cried. Then she showered, brushed her teeth, put on her outfit prepicked for the day, and began to clean the kitchen floor since she neglected doing so in order to go to the party. And then, launching herself into work suddenly made things better. Whenever she would hit the required note, she would stop and ask for a re-do, just so that she could do it better. Her high grades were maintained, Glee Club became better with every meeting as the new recruits melded seamlessly with the original members.

And then she missed her monthly.

This wasn't an uncommon thing, it's happened before. She merely ignored this and continued on. School became better and slushy attacks were less frequent and she and Puck maintained a healthy relationship that consisted of swift glances and barely there touches during rehearsals. If she said something directed at him, she wouldn't really look him in the eyes and he would reply with a sarcastic chuckle and everything was balancing out well.

And then she missed her monthly, again.

And suddenly the walls seemed to be closing in, as this was not common and she found herself wondering when she last had her period. Now knowing what she knows now, she could've consulted with Jacob. But she didn't have to. She began getting sick and due to her raw throat her pitch was becoming sharp and continuing on as the female lead would've alerted everyone that much faster. She couldn't do it. She _cannot _do it.

And she also couldn't have her reputation ruined either. Not like this.

Which is why she stopped Jacob, who was running down the hallway in terror. She would have to make sure to give the person a care basket for putting that look on his face.

"You…cannot run that article, Jacob." Rachel began, begrudgingly touching his shoulder. His hyperventilation comforted her because it was indication that he might reconsider. His glasses fogged and she tentatively removed her hand. "There are certain ways for things to be done, and that article is far too vague and sensational. Why post that when you can have an exclusive?"

"Exclusive?" Jacob's eyes grew wide, and his eyes ran down her petite figure, making her cringe. "You mean, exclusive footage?"

She didn't miss the fact that his eyes landed on her breasts. "As in an interview. With me. And the father."

Jacob scrutinized her closely for a moment, trying to figure out if she was lying or not. Acting classes since the age of four remedied that. "I accept…on the condition that I get a pair of your underwear. Your _real _underwear." He leered and she stepped back, maintaining a safe distance. His waggling eyebrow wasn't going to make this easier.

She sighed, stifling a shiver, "I accept."

* * *

Part One of the third chapter. It's my birthday today…Wish me well wishes? Por favor?

Another thing...didn't mean to, erm, frighten people, last chapter. I know holiday time is coming, so I'll keep it PG-13 for the most part (due to language). This just won't be a "fluffy" piece, right now at least. I just...don't see them being fluffy after questionable relations. And after they do their "evil deeds" they'll be redeemed. Completely. :)

DAC


	5. And Add the Chorus…

_**T**urn**T**able_

* * *

_And Add the Chorus…_

* * *

His eyes opened under his thick follicles and the room was filled with smoke, which should've sent him into a panicked state because of his flaring asthma and the fact that he was in an empty classroom which could've indicated that the school was burning down, but all thought vacated his mind when Rachel Berry emerged from the cloudy wisps in a metallic silver mini dress that flared at the hem. She had a vibrant smile that tugged on her lips and she looked absolutely ethereal, like some angel-princess-sex goddess and oh my God, he thinks he just saw her gold star encrusted underwear!...

She opened her mouth and a mantra of melodies and syllables poured from her mouth. Jacob mewled in her wake, practically salivating and bouncing in his seat.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah...

"I know that you've been waiting for me,

And I'm waiting too..." She came to directly in front of him on the other side of the table and promptly began climbing upon it, outstretching her arms wantonly. Jacob reached for her superfluously and her hands came to rest on his face.

"In my imagination,

"I be all up on you," She cooed. Her smile widened, becoming nearly manic and he began to breath irregularly in anticipation. A thermometer appeared in her hands out of thin air and when he opened his mouth in amazement, she stuck the mercury filled bud under his tongue.

"I know you got that fever for me, hundred and two,

"And boy, and I know I feel the same,

"My temperature's through the roof-"

Jacob was in a universe of bliss and sensation. Rachel Berry's almond eyes, cherry lips, and chestnut hair filled his vision and she looked just like that girl from the Black Eyed Peas. Only with a bigger nose, and more Jewish, which was just how he liked them. As a young, testosterone filled Jew bursting his top with physical need, he had a duty to please that Jewish booty.

"If there's a camera up in here,

"Then it's going to leave with me,

When I do, _I do_..." She continued with a falsely reprimanding tone, though the feral look in her eyes was begging him to shoot her from all angles. He released a swooning wheeze as he leaned in closer to her face, his lips nearly touching hers until she sang the next verse.

"If there's a camera up in here,

"Then I'd best not catch this flick on YouTube, _YouTube._

"'Cause if you run around,

"And brag about this secret rendezvous,

"I will hunt you down..." Rachel purred menacingly and Jacob recoiled until that delightful smirk returned back to her face. God, it was hot when she was threatening in that crazy I'd-sell-your-soul-to-the-highest-bidder way for what she wanted. His breaths began coming out in short bated intervals and he took off his glasses, cleaning away the fog on his cardigan.

"'Cause baby, I'm up in my business like a Wendy interview,

"See this is private, between you and I…

"Touch my body-

"Throw me on the floor-

"Wrestle me around-

"Play with me some more-

"Touch my body-

"Throw me on the bed-

"I just want to make you feel like you never did,

"Touch my body..."

She finally had reached her destination, crawling off of the table and unto his lap. She grinned doing so and flicked his nose playfully with her index finger. "Let me wrap my thighs, all around your waist,

"Just a little taste...

"Touch my body-

"Do you love my curves?

"Come on, and give me what I deserve-

"And touch my body..."

"Touch my body," Jacob sang absently, running his hands on the flat plains of his chest. Rachel cleared her throat to remind him of other presences in the room and Jacob looked up, bewildered, until he realized that Rachel was no longer an ethereal seductress, but just the plain old diva in full preppy gear.

Crap. Just a dream.

He made a sound through his nose in embarrassment and muttered a nasally, "Sorry."

The old tape recorder slid across the faux wood-like surface and Jacob grinned in anticipation, feeling a bit like Barbara Walters.

Only a guy, not as ancient, and more Jewish.

Rachel sat in front of the dark afroed boy with a quaint prim smile and she straightened her cardigan before clearing her throat. The boy next to her scratched his head and looked around the empty classroom, as the camera was set up adjacent from their seats. The red light flickered on and the lens cap was removed to fully view the young couple and Jacob.

Rachel gave the boy sitting next to her a reassuring glance before turning back to the freckled faced reporter, and began her somber faced façade.

As much as she detested liars and people who used the system for their own deplorable ends, she couldn't help stretching the truth for the greater good. For instance, the time when that sub-par baritone received the solo well-earned to her, and she reported the former Glee moderator of sexual molesting, which was mostly true since he _did _touch him on his abdomen and it truly _was _sickening to watch him butcher that solo like USDA Prime Rib.

The nerve.

In any case, she promised Jacob an exclusive, and an exclusive was just what he was about to receive.

After their meeting in the hallway, she had the inner cogs in her mind circulating as to how to rectify this situation, make Jacob's famed blog known as a fictitious piece of trash, and keep whatever being developing in her uterus hidden all before lunch.

It was simple, really.

She instantly made her way to the first destination, taking a deep breath before opening the door to the boy's locker room. She squared her shoulders and walked through, making sure to keep herself poised while not taking a breath in fear of fainting due to the sulfurous fumes. The boys in there halted their movements, staring at her as she walked through as though they've never seen a girl once in their existence. The distinct _click clack _of her shoes could be heard in the stilled silence and she approached his locker cautiously before announcing herself. _"Hi, Finn."_

The boy looked around bewilderedly, still pulling his William McKinley sweatshirt over his head. Finally, his head emerged and he gave the smaller girl a surprised grin, _"Hey, Rachel. What're you doing in here?"_

She smiled in response, _"I need your help with something."_

His eyebrows furrowed. _"Right now? I kind of have weight-lifting…"_

"_Oh, I promise this won't take long," _Rachel appealed to him. _"I simply need your testimonial concerning our child." _She sighed internally, if only she could show this much bravado toward Puck.

They stood in the empty classroom, minutes before Jacob arrived with Finn still scratching his head in a daze. _"Um, Rachel? I don't know how to tell you this, but Quinn's my girlfriend…and we've never had sex."_

Already predicting his answer, Rachel held out her palm and within it lay a small, white egg. With a pink bow on it's top. _"It's a project," _She explained. _"Everyone else was taken, so the teacher allowed me to pick someone from outside of class."_

Finn's face lit up at the prospect, completely believing Rachel with every word said. He took the egg from her hand and cradled it softly, a crooked smile gracing his features. _"Syrup."_

Rachel's face contorted in puzzlement. _"Excuse me?"_

"_We should call her Syrup!" _Finn exclaimed, becoming fond of the idea, _"Because she's smooth and sweet, and she'd probably have your eyes, which are big and brown and remind me of Mrs. Buttersworth. Plus it's like, exotic, you know? Special."_ He whispered the last word in awe and Rachel's heart warmed at the thought of him having such a gesture, even if it was just an egg he was referring to.

"_That's a lovely name, Finn." _She said softly, and as far as she was concerned, he could've named the egg _Puck _and she wouldn't have cared.

Now, they say dutifully in front of Jacob, Rachel already with her lines rehearsed and Finn as the supporting male role. All that had to be done now was make a convincing enough performance and then report the blog for slander and discredit his site. Her eyes watered necessarily and she began to dib-dab with the napkin withdrawn from her pocket.

Jacob snorted a laugh of glee and spoke into his microphone gravelly, "Finn Hudson, star quarterback of William McKinley and long-time boyfriend of Quinn Fabray, is it true that you and Rachel Berry are with child?" He shoved his microphone onto Finn's lips. Rachel had to admit she was impressed; if she didn't detest the little weasel in his attempts to fondle her, ruin her name, and degrade her very being, she might have found him to be very professional.

Finn spoke confidently into the microphone, "Yes, it is."

"And is it true that you engaged in this sordid affair right under Quinn's nose?" He asked in a nasally tone and Finn's eyebrows furrowed once more.

"Actually-"

"I initiated it," Rachel answered quickly, cutting across Finn's comment without sparing him a glance.

Jacob turned to Rachel, "And where exactly did this seduction of sorts take place? Obviously, you will not take part in the Chastity Ball this year."

"In actuality, I would like to attend and personally apologize to Quinn Fabray," Rachel said remorsefully, beady pubescent tears streaking her face. "I, for one, am sincerely ashamed of my actions and would hope that she does not reprimand Finn for my outlandishly promiscuous ways. After my outburst at the Chastity Club, it shows how absolutely hypocritical I am to talk of teenagers using contraceptives when I myself couldn't do the same!" Sobs wracked the young actress' body and Finn looked at her like she just said she was a cyborg.

Jacob nodded stonily, still maintaining his professional mask. "Well said, Rachel. Well said." He turned to the camera, face now alight in speculative joy, "Tune in next time as the Baby Mama Drama unfolds! How will Quinn Fabray react now that the harlot known as Rachel Berry confessed? Will she break up with Finn? And what about the demon seed growing with Rachel's va-jay-jay?"

Finn's mouth fell open, "Hey, wait a minute-"

And then, following pro quo, Rachel slapped him. "How dare you just sit there like a slack faced dimwit while we're undergoing this ordeal? You should be ashamed of yourself." Rachel seethed, and nosily stepped out of the classroom, wiping the tears from her face.

Hook, line, and sinker.

She sighed in a moment of rare contentment, admonishing herself for treating Finn in such a manner without him deserving it, but being the kind and forgiving person he was, she was sure that if she explained the situation later, that he would be more empathic. That, and the opportunity to halt the reports on Jacob's blog crossed her mind as well.

She was about to turn down the main hall, when Jacob came, rambling behind her. "We're not done as of yet!"

Taking a calming breath, she would not let him ruin her moment of jubilation. "Jacob Israel, I have given you the interview you have been dying to obtain from me-"

"And I'm still underwearless," Jacob hacked out with a predatory grin. Rachel's left eye twitched.

Drat.

"I'm _waiting_," He hummed in a mocking singsong pitch and Rachel felt the sensation of bleeding ears for the first time.

"Well, Jacob," She began a bit smugly. "This isn't a condition I could very well commit to in the hallways, now is it? This requires a bit of privacy."

And then the phrase, _'going commando'_ comes to mind and she nearly wants to vomit.

Double drat.

His arms are crossed and he's pounding the marble tile below impatiently and Rachel's resisting the urge to bite her fingernails, as the habit was highly unhygienic and definitely something to be looked down upon for a future starlet such as herself. And then, he pulls out his cell phone and as it ascends closer into view, her jaw slacks as she realizes that the offending mock-up is still in existence. Surely he would've deleted it upon hearing that he was granted an exclusive!

"Wrong," Jacob breathed, his grin growing perilously wide. "You didn't think I would just trust you, right?" He pocketed his cell phone and outstretched his empty palm. "Until those panties drop and I have them curled in my hands, I'm keeping this mock-up as well as any new mock-ups I make in the future until then. I'm considering it withheld collateral."

"You can't do that," She murmured, eyes flickering to his front pants pocket. "That's slander, posting information you know to be false."

"Or is it?" He retorted, a skeptical glint entering his eyes. "How do I know that this so called 'exclusive' wasn't contrived? Because Finn Hudson picking you over Quinn Fabray is like…choosing a quickie over a threesome!"

As much as that statement nearly made her shirk away due to how it was bluntly said and who was saying, it was still bruising all the same and Rachel placed her arms over her midsection self consciously.

"It's too bad though," Jacob continued aloud. "You're not wearing a skirt today, so I guess easy access is out."

Just…no, do _not_ dignify that with a response.

"What can I do, other than relinquishing my undergarments to you, to stop you from posting anything?"

"Well," Jacob began, pushing his glasses back to his hilt and popping his collar, moving closer. "I _do_ have the urge to merge."

Rachel's eyebrows puckered upward and she backed in response. "Not now, not ever…_ever_. And furthermore, there won't be a father, period. Not after this weekend. So go ahead and post whatever trash you choose on your insignificant blog because at the end of the day no one truly cares about the perspective of an outcast. They'll laugh and then it'll all be forgotten. So maybe you should stop being concerned with personal lives of others, and start being concerned about yours."

She turns on her heel, proud of herself for maintaining her composure and justifying her statement.

And then it is all ruined by her ill-perceived disregard for the fact that the hallway is just big enough to not run into someone else upon turning a corner to go to Glee.

Especially when that someone is the father of your child.

And now she is childishly avoiding eye contact because really, she just cannot deal with him right now. By this time tomorrow, she would have no reason to act this way around him. But for now…

She opens her mouth to apologize, but in the empty hall, she hears an electronic _beep _and she turns around to see Jacob standing a few feet away from her and Puck. That manic smile is idiotically etched on his face as he held up cell phone with mobile web connection and her heart drops to the pit of her solar plexus.

"Heh, now _everyone_ will be wondering who the baby daddy is on my _insignificant_ blog, won't they Rachel?" He throws his head back in a cackle, pockets his phone, and stalks away in the other direction. His retreating footsteps rhythmically match the pounding of her heartbeat in her eardrums.

A hand lands over her cardigan sleeve and Rachel stills as Puck's breath tickles her ear lobe.

"So, who _is_ the baby daddy, Berry?"

* * *

And…Happy Thanksgiving everyone! :D Part deux of chapter three.

First of all, my reviewers are super-duper-awesome-lovely-wicked-and all other adjectives synonymous to _amazing_…

God, I sound like an English freak…oh, wait…

"Um. If it is ~your~ birthday, than why are we getting the gift?" –babs08

That was just…brilliant. I laughed for two whole minutes. And then stopped when I realized I was the only one laughing. :O I'm just an, erm, nice person like that. But it was funny when I went to eat my face off, and it turned out that about 7 people were sung to everywhere we went. My life became _Glee_ for my birthday. What an awesome gift. Just like my reviewers, alerters, favers, luckers. ;)

""So, ah, why'd u stop slushing?" (Obviously u should be you.)" –Boingy

Funfact: I text majority of the chapters from my cellphone to my e-mail, and I guess spellcheck didn't catch it. Darn. Thanks for telling me! I should've proofed better.

"…every time I come across one of these stories, either the author is so against it that they have the character against it or for the sake of the story they decide to keep the baby." –blue18eyes

To your first point, never. I abhor self-inserts. And to your second point, IF the baby were to be kept, it would be for other reasons besides 'saving the story'. The challenge WAS named _babymamadrama_, for a reason. ;)

"Wouldn't she just say I am not pregnant and if he runs the story then she would have him arrested for stalking..." -blue18eyes

To your question, it would be slander if it was posted, and harassment if she filed it. But cyber slander is common, so it most likely wouldn't be taken seriously. If he were to prove that she was pregnant, then he couldn't be arrested for...erm, obtaining that info. As disgusting as it is, it's not breaking a law to snoop through trash. Yuck. Now I think I took it too far...

"I can't tell you how much I love your super creepy Jacob!" –Hips

I feel kind of guilty, considering he isn't THIS creepy on the show. Oh well…:)

"And as a big poetry fan, I so loved these lines: "so he shut her up with his mouth. And opened her up with his hands."...absolutely poetic." –Desda

I love poetry too! Darn it, my English-freakiness is showing… ;)

"…we are both scorpios!" –Luna Moon-star writer

Scorpios RULE. End of story. Which makes me wonder if Rachel and/or Puck are Scorpions as well…

"Sometimes I'm a little confused as to what is real-time and what is a memory, just saying…" –mag721

Completely understandable, and thank you for telling me. Italics is usually a past reference, and everything else isn't. I'm attempting to keep the format as they do it on the show, so it's a bit tricky at times. XD

So, the competition is tense because **EVERYONE IS WRITING AWESOME STORIES**. Like _Riding In Cars With Boys _by alien09. Dude. And if Shaay officially enters the contest, then we're all screwed. _All of us_. But it's all in good fun. :D Song featured was "Touch My Body" by Mariah Carey. And, is it funny that _Juno_ came on as I was writing this?

DAC

* * *

_Sneak Peek_

* * *

Last Night's Dream:

He walked up in Berry's house again, except straight to the kitchen this time and when he raked his hand across his scalp, there was no hair. Ordinarily, he'd be getting pretty pissed at this point, but it was a dream, so it's whatever.

Then he looked down at the kitchen floor and Berry was sprawled out in all Betty Crocker gear. The frilly white apron, the peach colored dress, the whole nine yards. Even the place smelt like chocolate cake. Yeah, even though this was a freaking dream, Puck took it all in because believe it or not, dreams made a lot more sense than real-life.

At least in his world.

Anyways, he looked down, and he was wearing a starch white muscle shirt, which, hey, he wore that type of shit on a daily bases. Except his mind could only come to one conclusion. If Berry in all of her prissy glory was beckoning him to get down on the kitchen floor with her and a peanut butter cookie in hand as the bribe, which also told him this was a dream because no matter how many tap, ballet, or singing trophies and metals she had plastered in her room, she still didn't cook. Ever.

But if she was Betty Crocker and he was wearing a white shirt with a shaved head, this could only mean that he was Mr. Clean.

Fuck.


	6. Cresendo

_**T**urn**T**able_

* * *

_Cresendo_

* * *

Damn, Berry looked good. Seriously. As a matter of fact, she looked so good, he might have to just take her behind the school and get her pregnant.

Okay, that would've sounded _so much funnier_ hours ago. Now it just makes him look like a douche that went around impregnating innocent girls and taking some sick enjoyment out of it. And then…

Damn, he needed to stop getting ahead of himself. Because Berry liked things in order, and well…shit. Now everything was chaos.

Last Night's Dream:

He walked up in Berry's house again, except straight to the kitchen this time and when he raked his hand across his scalp, there was no hair. Ordinarily, he'd be getting pretty pissed at this point, but it was a dream, so it's whatever.

Then he looked down at the kitchen floor and Berry was sprawled out in all Betty Crocker gear. The frilly white apron, the peach colored dress, the whole nine yards. Even the place smelt like chocolate cake. Yeah, even though this was a freaking dream, Puck took it all in because believe it or not, dreams made a lot more sense than real-life.

At least in his world.

Anyways, he looked down, and he was wearing a starch white muscle shirt, which, hey, he wore that type of shit. Except his mind could only come to one conclusion. If Berry in all of her prissy glory was beckoning him to get down on the kitchen floor with her and a peanut butter cookie in hand as the bribe, which also told him this was a dream because no matter how many tap, ballet, or singing trophies and medals she had plastered in her room, she still didn't cook. Ever.

But if she was Betty Crocker and he was wearing a white shirt with a shaved head, this could only mean that he was Mr. Clean.

Fuck.

As always, the dream was silent and somehow he just _knew _how to get from point A to point B without making himself look like an ass. He guessed that it was because it was a dream and everything was fuzzy and clear all at the same time. So he sat cross-legged on the floor while she lay on her back, just looking up at the ceiling lights because only Berry would do something like that. Lay on the floor, dreaming into space about how big of a star she would be.

Many would think that sex was on his mind 24/7, but he was about to fall asleep in class when he heard that dreaming about sex meant insecurities with sex in the real world. And he didn't have that, so no sex dreams for him. No, his dreams had a message. Like God was giving him a nudge through life.

Puck the Prophet, or some crap like that.

So, he just starting staring at the florescent lights too and was almost lost in how soft and bright they were, until he felt Berry take his hand and lay it flat on her stomach. She turned her head to look up in his questioning gaze with her warm mocha orbs and he knew she had something to say, but of course, she wasn't talking.

_Come on, just say it._

She shook her head with a light smile, mocking him. As if she heard his thoughts without him moving his lips. His expression turned surly, now cursing the fact that Berry was always eerily quiet in his dreams, when it looked like she was withholding information concerning him. She began tracing invisible symbols on the back of his hand, not taking her pleading eyes off of him.

_So, you want me to guess?_

She nodded, the curls she had framing her face fell into it and he absently brushed her bangs away from her eyes with his other hand. Her face faded into a somber state and she was coiling her fingers between the ones lying on her belly.

_You…have a stomachache._

It was a statement, not a question. It was actually hopeful, but she shook her head, her eyes softening encouragingly. Like she was trying to tell him to not give up. He looked down at his hand over her stomach, the warmth of it penetrating through the cottony material to his skin. He looked back into her eyes, which became saddened as she stared at the contact. He didn't know what to make out of this at first, but it somehow made him feel guilty because it was like she didn't like him touching her. He went to move his hand off, but she held it closer, pressing it firmly into the apron's fabric.

By the time he could've put two-and-two together, his little sister was jumping up and down on his bed, jarring him out of his sleep and rambling on about how Thursdays suck because they're not Fridays and how Mom wanted him to wake up for school. He didn't put much thought into the dream after that.

Not until he stood toe to toe with Berry, that is.

She was standing stock still, biting her lip in embarrassment and probably in humiliation after Israel just outed her. And everything just seemed to hit him all at once. Rachel Berry was pregnant, and soon everyone was going to know. Even though Jacob was a little chia-pet haired freak, the boy had subscribers, whether it was those who wanted to stay in the loop of things, or laugh at his take of the situation. Hell, even the cheerleader coach stayed in communication with him for whatever reason.

But the words '_baby daddy_' and '_Rachel Berry_' just didn't sit right with him. At all. Puck didn't have any claim on her whatsoever, or at least, he shouldn't have. But he touched the Promised Land first and the thought of some other dude taking up where he left off, even after one drunken misadventure was just unsettling and coiled in the pit of his stomach.

Or maybe it was that beef jerky from fourth period acting up.

Puck couldn't see Rachel's face from behind but the fact that she stood still for longer than thirty seconds was an indication that something was up and he just had to know because even though he didn't talk to this chick on a regular bases and she still seemed to crawl and fester under his skin, he still sat close to her in Glee and he would patronize her with the occasional acknowledging comment. Plus, she put out for him, intentionally or not, and he guessed that even though they weren't friends, they were…_something_.

So he put his hand on her shoulder to jar her from whatever trance she was in and whispered in her ear because bitches at this school just could not keep a secret. He saw Rachel take a steady breath when he backed away, and she looked over at him over her shoulder.

"I've only had sex once, _Noah_." She whispered his name meaningfully, as if that was all it took to answer his question and it turned out it was. She was blinking back tears and Puck didn't really know what to do, so he just stood there at first, but then he blacked out and his autopilot turned on.

"I'm shocked," He said, but the dry tone and blossoming smirk didn't mirror his words. "I mean, I know I popped that cherry first, Berry. But I would've thought that you would've let Finn sneak up in there and get a taste of that rainbow."

Her body's visibly shaking, even worse than when he used to throw slushies at her, and he feels like a pile of shit. Maybe that's why she looks at him like he is one. Then she rounds on him, brown eyes narrowed in fury and determination and he doesn't even feel the slap she delivers, but the sting afterward stuns him.

"Don't you dare imply that I am some cheap harlot that sleeps around and steals boys away when their girlfriends aren't looking."

"But you've thought about it," Puck sneers. "I bet when you weren't passed out you were thinking it was Finn the entire time, so get the Hell off your high horse Berry." His eyes flicker to her the area above her solar plexus and he can feel the bile rising in his throat. He's seriously arguing with the girl he used to slushy, the girl he boned with they were all about making bad decisions.

The girl he would now be calling his baby mama. It all came rushing back and autopilot is permanently shut off because this is serious and from now on it would be all about her and their little bundle of joy.

Not that Berry wasn't the center of attention anyways, but he just helped push her center stage. Way to fail, Loser.

He grabs her arm firmly, but gingerly enough to where he wouldn't hurt her, and pulls her into an empty classroom despite the fact that she threatened to scream bloody murder. He was already getting a pounding headache and the prospect of her making his ears bleed after this dropped bomb wasn't something he wanted to experience.

And to think, he was having such a good day.

Anyways, he knew she wasn't going to scream because this wasn't something she wanted an audience for. Winning a solo? Yes. Returning to Glee after her diva bitch fit? Yes. Discussing baby makes three plans with her former bully. Uh…yeah, _no_.

"What's going to happen?" He asked urgently, wanting to get straight to the point. Rachel stood in the shadowed corner of the room, appalled that he would even ask. He wasn't _that_ much of an ass, just his autopilot.

"Happen with what?" She murmured, not knowing how to react with this change of demeanor.

"The _baby_, Berry." Puck said annoyed, with a roll of his eyes. "What else have we been talking about?" She crossed her arms and directed herself towards the door, but he blocked her with him larger build. "What is it with you and running away from me when I say something you don't like?"

"I do not _run_," Rachel emphasized. "I merely cannot stand to be in your presence for too long."

"Get used to it Berry," Puck's eyes narrowed, searing hers. "We're going to be seeing a lot of each other pretty soon."

"Not if the procedure goes through," She hissed and covered her mouth, realizing what she had just said.

Puck's eyebrow rose, wrinkling his forehead. "What procedure, Berry?" His eyes averted to her stomach and he looked back up, realizing that she was staring reproachfully at her stomach too. "No. _Fucking_. Way." He seethed, and grabbed her shoulders. He stopped himself from shaking whatever sanity she had left. "That…goes against our religion, Rachel."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his and a furious blush adorned her cheeks, but he wouldn't be deterred, even if he did say her damn name.

"I'm aware of that," She muttered, the words hollow. However, under the circumstances, I really don't see any other alternative."

"Keeping the baby," He said curtly. As if that were the simplest thing in the world to do. Her eyes widened at his statement. "What, did you think I'd tell you to get rid of it?" He gritted out and she averted her eyes from his intense stare.

"Actually, _yes_," Rachel murmured. Puck's expression darkened as she continued. "We cannot take care of a child. We are not equipped and we are defunct. How can we raise a child and…" She pauses, wracking her mind for some plausible explanation for his actions, "Why would you _want_ to?"

The dimple in his cheek puckered in as he bit his tongue and shoved his hands into his William McKinley letterman jacket because the last thing he needed to do right now was curse out his baby mama for wanting to kill their kid and feeling justified in doing so. Then, after taking a few deep breaths through his nose, he leaned in closer and held her by her shoulders again. "I want to be there for you and the kid Berry. But I can't do that if you…"

"Have an abortion?" She finished for him, and he glowered at her.

"Yes," He said tightly. "Have an abortion. Right now, you think you're doing the right thing-"

"I know I'm doing the right thing Noah." She glared and his nostrils flared.

"For who? You?" Puck inquired indignantly and she freed herself from his grip.

"Yes, me! And you!" She added, pacing about the room and running a hand through her scalp. "We're too young and financially unsecured and obviously too _irresponsible_ to take care of another human being! In fact, I'm quite sure that we would kill one another if left alone for too long. And furthermore, we're not ready to be parents, and surely, I imagined this with my husband, not with the person who deemed me so unworthy that they humiliated me throughout school." Rachel blinked, realizing she was crying at this point and dabbed her cheeks with her fingers. She never expected all of the years of repressed hatred to just pour out of her the way it did.

Puck stood rigidly, staring at the way Rachel tried to compose herself and he tried not to feel affected when he reached out to brush away a stray tear, and she moved away in revulsion. She headed toward the door and this time, he didn't try to stop her. Before she left, she paused and whispered, "I cannot be the mother of a bastard child at sixteen, and even if I could, I couldn't do it with you. I'm just not strong enough."

When the door slammed shut, it felt like the death sentence had been put on him instead.

Today at Glee, Rachel sat at the very front again, and Puck sat on the back row to the side, for good measure.

He tried to ignore the looks she gave to Finn, half adoringly and half apologetic. Puck wanted to smash something, anything, in. But there was no football practice on Thursday and he was pretty sure that if he grabbed his guitar, he'd go all Jimi Hendrix on it. The way his hand would twitch and clench told him that, so he didn't do the jam session today.

So instead, his snapped to the direction of Santana and Brittany, huddled off in the corner and giggling to themselves over Santana's cell phone. When everyone else was preoccupied, they called Quinn over and the blonde covered her mouth, muffling her laughter. It didn't take a genius to figure out that bitch shit was happening, and the sight of seeing others happy when he was pissed and depressed all at the same time made him want to wipe those smiles off their pretty little faces.

"Santana," He nodded at his ex-girlfriend, who sneered at the fact that he would even talk to her. He smirked, "What the Hell are you looking at?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well, if you had a better credit score, you could buy yourself a better cell phone with mobile web connection." She said condescendingly and he resisted the urge to throttle her. For now.

Brittany shook her head at the exchange and turned to Puck, "Jacob updated his blog today. And, I don't know, he's kinda weird, but kinda funny too, you know?" She mentioned off-handedly, and Puck felt his face tighten. Jewfro was dead, effective immediately.

Quinn and Santana were still devoted hunched over the latter's phone, until they saw his recent post and they gasped, Santana nearly dropping her phone in shock. She looked up at Puck with a mild disgust and he felt something twist and turn in the pit of his stomach again. Then, she turned her gaze on Matt who was bobbing his head to Artie's electric guitar and strode over to grip on his collar fiercely. "You better not have screwed that walking-singing jukebox, do you understand me?" She just about bared her teeth and Puck shook his head pitying for Matt, wondering what the Hell he saw in that chick.

"I haven't…What are you talking about, San?" Matt asked obliviously, still under her weathering stare.

"I'm talking about you and Man Hands over there!" Santana shrieked and pointed at Rachel for emphasis. The room fell eerily quiet and all production pretty much stopped at that point. Everyone honed in on Berry like she was just diagnosed with chronic Swine Flu.

Shit.

Then Quinn took up Santana's abandoned cell phone and looked over accusingly at Finn, who happened to be standing right next to Rachel since they were practicing their duet. If that glare stayed too long on her face like that, she'd have that constipated bitch look on her face all of her life.

Oh, wait…

By the time she crossed the room, Finn had inched away from Rachel but it was too late. Quinn slapped the crap out him, and when she was done she pulled him by the collar and practically made out with him right in front of Berry. When she pulled away, she gave Rachel a satisfied smirk, "Go find someone else to manhandle, Man Hands. He's mine."

Puck felt his teeth clench together at the blonde Cheerio and his eyes went to Berry, who looked his way for a moment before dropping her sheet music and running out of the room.

Double shit.

The room was still quiet in the wake of the whole gang-up-on-the-Glee-nympho thing, not that she was a nympho since she just told him that he was her only, and Puck calmly stood up and ambled to the piano. Picking up the sheet music, he left the room, not even caring how weird it would look for him to go looking for Berry. He figured he'd be chasing that girl for quite a while, so he better get used to it.

He saw her disappear into one of the girl's bathrooms and he walked in since the school was basically empty anyways. He sighed when he heard the puking and walked over to the second to last stall, where he saw Rachel basically chucking out today's mystery meat. He stepped in beside her and crouched down to her level. Then he held her hair away from her face, allowing her to let it all out without worrying about it getting on her deep brown hair. He patted her back when she lunged forward again into the toilet and realized that she wasn't wearing a skirt today.

She looked like crap, if he was being honest with himself. Probably felt like it too, and again, it was his entire fault.

Triple Shit.

He could feel a wave of nausea hitting him too, but seeing as he had no physical reason to feel that way, he stifled it quickly and kept his focus on Rachel. She still had her face angled in front of the toilet when she turned her eyes to him. Her almond eyes were pooled with sickness-induced tears and they were questioning him.

_Why are you here? Why are you doing this? _

Puck didn't know what to say, so he just didn't say anything. He felt his actions told the whole damn story. He only gave her a reproachful look, wanting her to understand and they were locked in a moment of time, gazing at one another for answers to unspoken questions.

_You didn't think I'd let you do this alone, did you?_

And then the moment was broken when Rachel hacked up into the toilet, even if it was just empty air. Puck rolled his eyes at this even if he knew it was involuntary and he patted her back softly, but firm enough to make an impact. Way to ruin a moment, Berry.

She stayed kneeled for about a minute or so before she stood up and she rummaged in her hot pink purse before shoving a business card in Puck's hand. She left the bathroom quickly and silently, fixing herself as she went and he stared down at the card, slowly raising an eyebrow.

She had her own business card. With a star on it. A golden freaking star on it. He was the one with his own business and _she_ was the with the business card.

Figures.

* * *

Final part of chapter three. Finally. Next chapter: Rachel apologizes, an abortion clinic is visited, and someone goes baby hunting. _Whew_!

Challenge Stories That Have Caught _My_ Eye: (But .Pink. was not consulted in the creating of this psudo-list. So don't furiously PM her, or something equally crazy. You know who you are…)

Once More with Feeling by desespoir

The Truth or something like it by Stroplok

With Arms Wide Open by mag721

Snapshots by everdancer

At Least She's Jewish by cleanslate

Riding in Cars With Boys by alien09 (Uh-_duh_)

…And a few others that haven't entered. Which is good because my chances just increased. ;) _Booyah_.

Gah, it's three in the morn, I'm exhausted, and all of my 100+ lurkers out there can thank my lovely reviewers for this chapter getting out as quickly as it did. 'Specially Hips for emphasis on the dream sequence. Nah, kidding. I love everyone. But my 100th reviewer may get something special…

DAC


	7. Staccato

_**T**urn**T**able_

* * *

_**S**taccato_

* * *

Rachel swore that if she kept her eyes closed long enough, she could almost see the translucent blurs of tanned skin from that night, but that not what scares her the most. She could still _feel _him on her skin. She brushes her hair behind her ear, and the spot where he held it back for her is still tingling on the epidermis. She could still hear him breathing that song in her ear.

"_Is it still me that makes you sweat?  
Am I who you think about in bed?  
When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?" _

His fingers were firm and demanding, quickly covering and caressing and gripping every part of her possible. She was merely amorphous clay in his hands at this point, waiting to be sculpted_._

"_Then think of what you did  
And how I hope to God he was worth it.  
When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch his skin_."

She wanted to think that she couldn't remember a thing, but her hands were just as insistent, just as nimble, as they traveled down his chest, bypassing his cool silver of his nipple ring, to his navel.

"_I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck  
Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me  
Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of  
Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat?_"

His murmured words were so crass, and yet excited. Her legs clenched in anticipation and it wasn't _Puck_ that was evoking these emotions or touches. They were detached hands, and searing eyes, and a finely toned body encasing her between her sheets.

"_No, no, no, you know it will always just be me…_"

Rachel was breathing heavily and brought out of her reverie as the briefly lucid memory ended.

She sat in front of her flower-embroidered laptop at her desk, exhaling before clicking on the link that led straight to Jacob's blog. She frowned as her lidded doe eyes gazed onto the doctored mural, one that had her either standing near or talking to every guy in Glee, including Kurt. This was all that was needed to cause a wave of hysteria running through her veins and speculation as she gathered her things and left the choir room. By this time tomorrow, everyone would know her dirty little secret.

Then again, by this time tomorrow, she may not have had a dirty little secret to hide anymore.

Perhaps this was what she should've expected for trying to beat the system. It didn't matter what her intentions were or how much alcohol had imbibe her, it all lead back to sex, which she should've had as a variable in the equation, but then again, why would she? He wasn't someone she would've considered and she was sure that the same went for him twice over. The worst part was that she couldn't really remember the whole night –patches of her own laughter filled her eardrums and his callous fingertips were still penetrating her skin- and she couldn't even say that she was thinking of Finn the whole time. Truth be told, she didn't know what was running through her mind, if anything at all _was _going through her mind. The night was a complete and utter _blur_.

And maybe, for her sake, it was better that way. Accepting that she was pregnant was almost all she could bear. The thought of her and Noah Puckerman engaging in sexual activities was too much. It was as if she were dropped in one of Rod Serling's classic screenplays and was made to act out _that girl. _The girl that would allow herself to be so far out of control that she would do something as inane as be sexually involved with her tormentor. Now all she had to discover was that the baby was some sort of monstrous half-breed, and it would be perfect.

Wait. No, that was the _Twilight Saga_, not the _Twilight Zone_. Oops. Whichever it was, it didn't contain any form of music, which deemed it a little _less_ important in Rachel Berry's world.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. She wouldn't spend another moment thinking about this. She had a plan, and now she had to execute it.

It was just…something was aching her. She had finally told him. And it almost scared her, to see how adamant he was about not wanting her to quickly take care of the problem. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be on the other side of the spectrum and it bothered her because where on Earth was the boy who constantly made it his business to humiliate her at any given moment? This…stranger made it his business to follow her into the girl's restroom and aid her at her most vulnerable moment. Where was the boy who pulled on her pigtails when they first met at the synagogue and the boy who had bullied and belittled her throughout junior high, until he decided to up the ante when she finally reached high school.

It was like she never knew him at all. And she was right to think that, considering they've never been friends.

Curiousity was overtaking her slowly, not that it should matter at this point. She had given him her callback card on a whim allowing him the choice to call her if he so chose. Now she was reconsidering that decision, along with all of the other decisions she had been making lately. Laying in the comfort of her sea of sheets and covers, she felt like a child who had just discovered that touching an enabled stove would burn her hand. She had missed most of her extra curricular engagements this week –though she doubted she herself was missed- for the exception of Glee because they truly needed her there with Sectionals impending.

Rachel was used to being alone, doing things on her own, even if she was in a large group. Maybe that was why she demanded each and every solo. Maybe she expected to handle this in the same fashion too and strangely, that didn't affect her. What had truly disappointed her, what had made those tears pool in her eyes, was the fact that she was disappointing so many people in one blow. Her fathers, Mr. Schue, everyone in Glee, Finn…

Herself.

And then the phone rings and her head snaps to it in a daze. She stares at the silver cell phone as it reaches the end of the hook of _Defying Gravity_, and hesitantly opens it. "Hello, this is Rachel Berry speaking." She hears a baritone chuckle from the other line and nearly blushes in embarrassment. She knew she gave him the number, she just didn't expect for him to dial it.

"I know that, that's why I called the number," Puck quipped, lazily throwing a football into the air from the position on his bed.

She sat up cross-legged and twined a curl of her hair within the confines of her fingertips. "Right. Of course, I'm just being silly. I apologize," She rushed out her clipped answers in a flustered bother and sighed.

Puck caught the ball with one hand and his eyebrow rose. "What're you sorry for? I'm the one who should be saying that for knocking you up."

Rachel's mouth opened, and closed in secession. How do you respond to that? "Well, I thank you for understanding the situation we are now in, even though I am a bit surprised. I…didn't expect you to react in the manner you did."

Puck sat up on his bed, leaning back against the headboard with a considering frown on his face. He scratched his temple, fingering his nunchucks. "How'd you think I'd act?"

"I expected you to be infuriated, actually," She said softly. "I thought you would tell me immediately to get rid of it, not that I had to be told that of course."

His expression darkened at the reminder and he gripped the weapon's handles. "Listen, about that…my offer still stands." The line becomes quiet because both are clueless as how to proceed with this. Rachel looks down at her still toned stomach, rubbing it as if the oncoming bump was already there. She frowns and shakes her head ruefully when Puck breaks the silence. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Absolutely," She replied with conviction. "Having a baby wasn't exactly in my trajectory at this point in time and I have dreams to accomplish long before I even consider having children. We're too young and we're not even married, which would statistically hinder this baby."

"My mom's not married," Puck mentioned off-handedly.

"Your mother's situation is different, Noah. You were not a love child, and I'm sure that your parents cared for one another when you were conceived. We barely know one another, and as much as I appreciate your efforts this afternoon, I just don't see how this would exactly work."

Puck leaned his head back until it hit the headboard with a _thud _dejectedly, and stared up at his ceiling. "What if it could? Work?"

"It couldn't, Noah," Rachel reiterated.

"But what if it could?" He rebutted, grasping at strings of hope. As it was said, he was an ass. But he wasn't going to let her do this unless she knew that this was what she wanted to do. And he already knew she would be difficult, so he would just have to fight fire with fire as long as he was around.

She sighed, tucking her knees underneath her and kneeling on the bed. "I'm not quite sure, to be honest with you," She replied quietly. "We barely know one another and you can hardly tolerate me, which is understandable considering the fact that I have such high standards, but not for someone who is carrying your child."

"Then let's get to know each other," Puck drawled, settling into his bed.

"You're being very simplistic about this," Rachel cut out tersely.

"And you're treating it like freaking rocket science."

"Because this isn't a simple matter, Noah!" Rachel exclaimed, and then clapped her mouth shut, realizing she had spoken too loud. After a moment of silence and knowing that her fathers didn't hear or acknowledge her outburst, she spoke again. "I'm sorry, but I...I can't. And in any case, I've already told you about myself, so whether or not you took the opportunity to listen was your prerogative. The real enigma is you, so perhaps you should start talking."

Puck lazily swung the weapon slowly in the air, and released a yawn. "My name is Puck, and I like to f-"

"Don't you dare!" Rachel rushed out before he could finish that sentence.

He cocked an eyebrow at her actions. "What? I like to focus on my priorities." He said innocently enough.

She suppressed a growl, her eyelids lowering. "And yet you wonder why this would never work. I just told you that I'm carrying an unborn child today, and you're turning this into a joke."

"It's called lightening the mood, which I think you need right about now." Puck's eyebrow fell and he pinched the bridge of his nose, "When are you thinking about…doing the thing."

Rachel blinked, and it took her a moment to comprehend his question. "The abortion?"

Why did she have to say that so damn easily? Like it was like getting a shot, or pulling a baby tooth the resisted to fall out. It was like the time he slushied her with a cherry Big Quench, like seriously slushing the shit out of her, and she just stood there. No tears, no anger, nada. And then she went to the bathroom and went on with her day like nothing happened. Like that hot cyborg from Terminator 3. Tell her that the solo isn't hers, and all Hell breaks loose, but tell her to kill the kid and she's the first one ready with a knife in hand.

But he was the heartless one. Yeah, right.

"Yeah, Berry. The thing." Puck muttered unrelenting, refusing to actually say the word because he didn't want her to believe for a moment that he wanted her to go along with it. "When were you planning on doing it?"

Rachel bites her lower lip and whispers, "Tomorrow." He doesn't say anything for a long moment and she begins to become antsy. She takes the cell phone away from her ear and looks at the screen, seeing that the call is still connected. "Noah?"

"If Israel didn't say shit in the hall today, you wouldn't have told me, right?" He grits out on the other end.

"Do you want the truth?"

Yes. No. Maybe…you know what? Fuck the truth. It's not like he could handle it, but since he knew now what he didn't before, he'd have to step up to the plate and man up. Fast. And the truth was that his seed was in Berry and that deemed her just a little more important in his world. His dad stepped up to the plate once, and then the bastard reneged, so if there was one thing Puck prided himself on was always keeping his word. If Puck said he was going to do something, then he was going to damn well do it. And if Berry couldn't handle that, then she'd better get used to it.

"What time is it for?" Puck asked, ignoring her previous question.

Then she started babbling in a quickness, but he caught the gist of it. 4:30. Center for Choice clinic. Toledo. Four hundred dollars. He'd have to gas up before school in order to have enough for the trip, and he'd have to withdraw at least two hundred dollars.

"Noah, I appreciate this, but you really don't have to!" Rachel protested after Puck made the suggestion to drive her there and cough up half the cash. "Honestly, I expected to deal with this myself-"

"But you. Don't. Have. To." He punctuated each word with a pause in-between. "_I_ got you pregnant, and you know what? _I_ want to be there when they…you know. So swallow your pride, and take it like you take all those leads in Glee. Got it?"

Despite the fact that he couldn't see this, Rachel nodded with fervor, blinking rapidly. "Absolutely. So, we're in agreement with this?"

"Yes."

"And you won't try to deter me from this decision tomorrow?"

Fuck. How'd she know? He put the phone on mute and punched his pillow a few times in frustration. And then threw it out the window. Now he's going to have to go downstairs and get it. Crap. He took the phone off mute after Rachel had called his name again warningly, but fearing that he had actually hung up. He sighed, "_No_."

"Promise?"

"I don't make promises I can't keep."

"Noah!" She admonished.

He shrugged. Sue him for keeping options open. "You want honest, Berry? I don't know how I'll feel about this day after tomorrow. And I know all about the women's right to chose and shit like that-"

No, he really did. His mom backslapped him when he asked if _Roe vs. Wade_ was a boxing match back in fourth grade. Then, after holding a bag of ice to his stinging cheek, he sat through a lecture filled with years of women's suffrage and sexism and sex a la carté _–"That's when women felt empowered enough to rise up and take a stand against men,"_ His mother continued educating a nine year old Puck, dabbing his cheek. "_Sex wasn't only for their enjoyment, but the woman's, too_."

Puck blinked and looked his mother in the eyes, "_Is that why Ms. Mason is so mad all the time?_" He asked, referring to his fourth grade teacher, who typically wore a disgruntled expression during class time. And then, his olive eyes brightened with an epiphany. "_Maybe that's what she needs! More sex a carté!_"

There goes the other cheek. Damn, shouldn't have said shit. But still, learning about sex a la carté turned out to be the building blocks for Puck's interactions with middle-aged women. And far be it from Puck to not give these poor, downtrodden, and _sexy-as-fuck-oh-God_! women their salvation if he had the goods.

It'd be criminal. An act against God.

"-so if I happen to say some shit tomorrow, just blame it on the hormones."

"But only the woman is affected by hormones." Rachel said, a bit confused.

"No, I hear it passes on to the dudes too. Like a disease, or something."

"Oh," Rachel murmured softly, nodding. "Um, well, thank you. For everything." Rachel looked quickly at her iPod alarm clock, "I should be getting to bed. I must maintain at least seven hours of sleep a night to ensure the health of my vocals as well as my physical appearance."

…And then it hits him. Damn, Rachel Berry has his seed in her. And she needs her sleep to provide. For _his _seed.

"Yeah, right. Get some sleep, and uh, don't worry so much about this…"

Rachel shut her phone and curled up underneath her covers, turning on her iPod to play the song she used routinely to lull her to sleep, fittingly the title track of _Dreamgirls_. As she laid her head on her pillow, eyes heavily shutting in on themselves, his last words replayed softly through the recesses of her mind.

"…_I got you."_

* * *

"I-I don't…I _can't_ do this!"

Terri Schuster cried in her older sister's arms, holding the overly soft bulge over her abdomen in place. Kendra stoked her sister's curls soothingly, and then firmly placed her hands on her shoulder, gripping her out of her hysteria.

Kendra shushed warningly, looking back into the kitchen's general area, hoping that Will hadn't heard. "You _have_ to do this!" She whispered, "Because if you don't, imagine what will happen? He'll be all sad and run into some tramp's arms, and probably catch one of those _STDs_!"

At this, Terri wailed even louder, blue eyes widening frightfully in fear and looking down at her falsely plump stomach. "Oh Kendra…what if I just tell him, you know? Set things right before-"

"Before he throws a _hissy fit_ and turns to _drugs and hussies?_" Kendra questioned incredulously, brushing back her blonde bangs. "No, I don't think so."

Terri sighed, setting her head in her hands in distress. "What do I do? I can't just…I've tried _so hard_ to get _pregnant_." She screeched in a whisper.

And it was true. Daily sex with Will until she "started showing". She contemplated going with the scientific approach and somehow attain his sperm from the toilet, but it turned out that it didn't live there too long. And it was far too _icky_ to just…_swoop_ up in there and retrieve it, if you knew what that meant and implied.

And then, after the seventh failed attempt, she sat on the couch with her two favorite men, Ben and Jerry. Watching _Lifetime_ had depressed her to areas unknown. When questioned, she just blamed it on the hormones and cravings. And then wailed to the top of her lungs. Luckily, Will didn't mind too much, considering that he had liked her impressive set of pipes back in high school, despite the fact that they sounded like nails on a chalkboard when she hit her manic stage.

Damn that _Juno_, and _Molly Ringwald_, and God forbid, _Amy Juergens_! How could they produce spawn at fifteen and sixteen, when they didn't even know one _thing_ about life, when she, at twenty-four and completely _ready_ to care for another human being, could not?

Seeing him there, so _hopeful_ and so _supportive_…she had nearly reached her limit, but luckily, Kendra was there to talk her off the ledge. Right?

"I know, I know," Kendra cooed, looking Terri in the eyes. "Here's what we're gonna do. We…" She paused, a Cheshire grin appearing on her face. "Are going baby hunting."

Terri's tears had subsided and she gave her sister a quizzical glance. "Baby hunting?" She whispered in awe.

"Baby hunting," Kendra reaffirmed. "If you can't make a baby, we're just going to have to hunt for one." She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Terri breathed, "But how are we going to do that? I mean, this isn't like _China_." She looked at her belly and patted it mournfully; "They don't give away babies like iPods over here."

Kendra rolled her crystalline blue eyes at this admission, "Well, _duh_ Terri. China is filled with all of those…_Chinese_ people, and they're all musically repressed and whatever." She said with a flippant wave of her hand.

Terri's delicate eyebrows furrowed, "But Will has a Chinese girl in his Glee Club-"

"She was born _here_. In _America_."

"Right," Terri readily agreed with a slow nod of her head.

Will emerged from the kitchen with both Terri and Kendra's bacon filled sandwiches, which Terri took gratefully and Kendra looked at in distaste, "Is that Canadian bacon?"

Will craned his head questionably, "Yeah, why?"

Kendra's face scrunched up unpleasantly and muttered, "That's Un-American, Will." She snatched the sandwich from his grasp anyways and secured her purse to her side, "Well, I should get going before something terrible happens. Like the boys trying to burn down the house, or something."

Terri nodded in understanding with a soft smile on her face, while Will cocked an eyebrow at the blasé tone her voice took after talking about her sons setting things on fire. As if that's happened before. Then again, he _was_ their uncle, so he felt himself nodding at the statement as well.

"I'll see you _tomorrow_, Terri." Kendra made a point of saying as she headed out the door, sending her a secret wink which Will fully noticed but ignored because it was Kendra who did it. Terri waved serenely; holding a hand in front of her swelled pad and feeling an invisible weight lift from her shoulders at the thought of her older sister's brilliant idea.

* * *

She wakes up with a little less luster than normally, but maintaining her normal regimen to a T has her moving at breakneck pace, hoping for some sort of empowerment to come.

It doesn't.

Instead she's all smiling lies and polite regrets. Her fathers are blissfully unaware –and hopefully, it'll stay that way- but her peaceful slumber has turned into nightmares filled with deja vu and premonitions. The only thing she really had was the fact that Jacob didn't know the true identity of the father, and the only way she could keep up that façade was by throwing him off. The only way she could plausibly throw him off was by being in "cahoots" with every boy, including Kurt, from Glee. The interview with Finn, discussing mash-up ideas with Matt and Mike, showing interest in Artie's electric guitar.

Bumping into Puck wasn't in the original equation, but it seemed to –somewhat- work in her favor she supposed in the long run. Or perhaps it overcomplicated things. She wasn't sure of anything at this point, but she knew that he needed to be told. It was at the very least the right thing to do.

She never thought herself capable of something so devious beforehand, but as Quinn thought of what Jesus would do, Rachel thought of what Quinn would do.

And she promised that she would never entertain those sinful thoughts again. They landed her in far too much trouble for what they were worth and they would surely turn her into someone unrecognizable. So, she makes amends by apologizing to Finn that very morning.

"But…" Finn scratches his temple lightly. "I still don't understand why you did it, Rachel. It just doesn't seem like you," He says honestly, and she averts her eyes in shame.

"I know," She mumbles. "I just didn't know if you could act as honestly knowing rather than not knowing." She looks up at him, hoping for him to empathize, "If I could take it back, I would, but unfortunately, Jacob has seen fit to actually post every bit of information he has without steady confirmations-"

"But _why_, Rachel?" Finn reiterates and Rachel bows her head. He draws closer, handing her by her shoulders with his larger hands, "You can tell me anything."

She raises her head and his brown eyes are so earnest, so firm in his sentiment, that she cannot help but to trust him. She feels like Maria frozen in a moment with a beautiful boy within her grasp, "I'm…pregnant." The words spill out, washing over Finn's expression like cement, heavy and slow. He slightly inches back, just a centimeter or two, and she is painfully reminded that Finn has no stake in this, and therefore probably didn't even care.

"That's…_great_." He says, weakened smile garnishing his features and a hand resting at the crown of his head. She smiles, thankful at his lie because this was most certainly _not_ great. She wonders how many times she smiled at his lies, but then again, he lied for her yesterday, intentionally or not and the fact that he didn't run to Jacob as soon as she revealed this was enough.

The silence afterward becomes too much to bare and she's sure that Quinn may have been waiting for the right moment to strike, so she hastily waves goodbye and they part ways for the day, which she's sure Finn's thankful of and that just depresses her even more. Two months ago, he was just unattainable, and now that this has happened she was unwanted.

Eight weeks, one day, and approximately eleven hours.

She briefly touched her still flat abdomen and headed into the cafeteria toward the slushy machine. That was the amount of time she was tied to Puck without even knowing it. If she couldn't have Finn, then she should at least try to be cordial with Puck, even if it were for the day. Luckily, Glee wasn't today, but she could feel the stares from Tina and Artie, hear the whispers of Kurt and Mercedes, and see the Cheerios jeer and laugh. Even Matt and Mike fell quiet when she passed them in the hall in her search of Puck with a Big Quench in hand.

The triumvirate of cheerleaders stops her. Quinn's staring her down, and looking at her midsection, "Is it Finn's?"

Rachel's surprised by the question and her eyes widen. "Of course not." It's silent for a few tense moments, Quinn deciding whether or not to believe her as Santana looks her up and down in annoyance and Brittany takes the flank in support. Their eyes dart to the slushy held in front of Rachel curiously and her eyes dart to the drink in hand as well before turning her stare back to them. As far as the school hierarchy goes, the one with the slushy in hand held the power, so if they were considering to something of consequence, she could at least defend herself for the most part. Rachel adds, "It's no one you are all currently involved with."

"But it's someone we were with before?" Santana juts her chin out, and Rachel nods. A moment of understanding passes and the Latina's eyes narrow before a scathing smile breaks upon her face, "I'm so glad I dumped his ass." She says as she walks away, "I knew he liked sex, but that's just _pathetic_."

If Rachel couldn't feel her heart constrict, she would've laughed at the irony since he said those same words that night. As it is, she blinks rapidly and the cheerleaders depart, giving Rachel the room to continue.

She sees Puck at his locker in the middle of the hall and grips the large cup nervously, feeling its sweat numb her fingers as she's never spoken to him in school with this many people as witnesses, or barely at all. He slams his locker and she on the other side, outstretching the drink with a tentative smile on her face, not quite sure on how to proceed.

Puck cocks his eyebrow and she explains. "It's a cherry slushy."

He looks down at the drink and then back at her and she's still holding it out. "I can see that, Berry."

"I figured that it was your favorite, considering that it was the flavor you first doused me with when we began high school," She calmly states and surprisingly, he takes it instead of usurping it in her face and takes a sip. He smirks, licking his lips without taking his amused eyes off of her.

Not that she noticed the movement, or anything.

And when he slings an arm around her shoulders, she doesn't fight him off, oddly enough.

* * *

First off, props to the fics and authors who made it on Kiss. Me. Pink's list (and two just so happened to be on mine). Hmm, a rap euphemism comes to mind, "_When one of the homies make it, we __**all**__ make it dawg_!" Okay, you can throw tomatoes at me now.

Second, reviewers are a girl's best friends. Really, I just can't stop reading the comments sometimes, and they really do keep me going. So thanks go to Desda, Hips, Literati Lover, -lalatina15-, mag721, babs08 (Your promised fic is coming!), Pagan-Angel13, tilda for setting me straight (You know, I shouldn't have made him so biased…), and countless others. Promise the next installment will be sooner.

_Unfortunately_, this isn't the whole chapter so it's a bit disappointing. On the other hand, I feel bad to have been withholding this for so long, even though it's more like a trailer. Gah, project/paper week _sucks_.

Oh, klcthenerd, I caught that Puck/Rachel vid on _YouTube_! I really liked the concept of it, passion and violence…_yummy_.

And yes, Puck + Mr. Clean = Hot crossover slash covered in bubbles. And nothing else.

Song featured: Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have (Without Taking her Clothes Off) by Panic! At the Disco. Next time: Another dream sequence, the diabolical duo's diabolical plan begins, and a decision is made.

DAC


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